


My Cool Big Brother

by trans_pickles



Series: Letters From Mordhaus [5]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst, Big Brother Pickles, Coming Out, Family Drama, Gen, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 16:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11256354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trans_pickles/pseuds/trans_pickles
Summary: Seth's big brother used to be his big sister, that's how awesome he is. Spawned from a discussion withPearly_Pornography.





	My Cool Big Brother

**Author's Note:**

> i pulled pickles's birthname outta my ass lmao

"My brother could totally beat up your brother."

Seth pouted, folding his arms as he looked at the confused expression on Stevie Baker's face.

"Wait," said his classmate, "since when d'you got a brother? I thought you had a sister."

"Nuh-uh," said Seth. "My big bro's so cool, he just  _decided_  to be a dude. Dat's how  _awesome_  he is."

Stevie scrunched up his nose, like he'd just tasted something really, really nasty.

"That's weird," he said. "You're weird, and so is your sister."

"I told you, I ain't got a sister!" Seth snapped. He was beginning to get annoyed now. What was so hard to understand about it? In his very own words, Pickles "didn't feel like a girl". His name was Dillon, not Mary (Seth though "Pickles" was a really cool nickname). Ergo, Seth had a brother, not a sister. But Stevie was a third-grader, a whole year younger than Seth, so he was basically a baby. What did _he_ know?

"Whatever," said Stevie, rolling his eyes. "My brother could beat up your  _sister_ any day. He ain't afraid to hit a girl, y'know."

"It don't matter if he's afraid a' hittin' a girl or not!" Seth shouted, his face red. "He ain't gotta be afraid a' hittin' a girl, cause Pickles is a dude! A dude that's gonna  _kick your dumb brother's ass!"_

"Take that back!"

" _You_ take that back!"

Stevie was a third grader, yes, but he was a  _very big_ third grader, and Seth was a  _very small_ fourth grader. So when Stevie punched Seth right in the nose, it hurt a whole lot.

On the plus side, Seth didn't have to feel bad about hitting someone smaller than him.

"Seth! Stevie!" Someone grabbed Seth by the arm, dragging him off of Stevie. He flailed his tiny arms around, squealing like a stuck pig as he was hoisted in the air, only to come face-to-face with Miss Mason, the stern-faced, tight-lipped lunch monitor.

"Shame on you both," she snapped, still holding the two boys apart - Seth noted with pride the blood trickling from Stevie's nose. "We do  _not_ solve our arguments with violence. I'm surprised at you, Seth."

Seth mumbled an apology, digging the toe of his shoe into the dry dirt. After a brief, uncomfortable pause, he heard the same muffled, reluctant apology from Stevie.

"Now," said Miss Mason, crossing her arms, "would either of you gentlemen care to tell me what on  _Earth_ is going on?"

"Seth said his brother was gonna beat up my brother!" Stevie said, pointing at Seth before he even got the chance to get a word out. "He doesn't even  _have_ a brother!"

"That's not-" Seth took a deep breath. He was familiar enough with Miss Mason to know that yelling would only get him in more trouble. "That's not true. I didn't say my brother  _would_ beat up his brother, I said my brother  _could_ beat up his brother." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "And I do  _so_ have a brother. It's just that he used to be my sister is all."

Miss Mason got a funny look on her face, the same one Stevie had when Seth told him about Pickles. That scrunched-nosed, pinched-lipped look, like she'd just swallowed a whole lemon.

"Seth," she said, her voice tight, "would you follow me to the office, please?"

Great. Dumb, stupid Stevie and dumb, stupid Miss Mason were gonna make him miss the last fifteen minutes of recess. Hanging his head, he followed her inside, turning back just long enough to see Stevie, triumphantly sticking out his tongue at him.

What a _brat_.

* * *

 

Seth trudged home, dragging his feet in the dirt. In his hand, he clutched a note from the principal. One whole week of detention,  _and_ he had to see the school counselor, just for one stupid little fight. It didn't even make sense - the counselor had barely asked about the fight at all. All he wanted to talk about was Pickles. Where did he hear that Pickles was a boy? Had Pickles ever expressed any "gender issues" before? And the counselor kept calling Pickles his "sister", and every time Seth insisted that,  _no,_ Pickles was his  _brother,_ she'd scribble in her notepad.

Obviously, she was just taking notes 'cause she didn't understand. And he thought grownups were supposed to be  _smart._

Seth's thoughts inevitably turned to what awaited him at home. He'd never been in a fight before. How would his parents react? Would they ground him? He'd only been grounded once in his life, and it was the worst. Two weeks with no TV, no video games, and  _no dessert._ He couldn't imagine anything worse than that.

With a heavy heart, Seth dragged his feet up the stairs and to his front door. Already, he heard his parents' voices, both of them angry and loud. God, they were probably yelling at him, before he even walked in the door.

But... but that didn't make sense. He wasn't inside yet, and they didn't know he was there, so how could they be yelling at him? He heard another voice, this one higher, pleading, and his heart dropped to his stomach - _Pickles._ Seth pushed the door open a crack, just enough to see and hear through.

"I thought I told you I'd had enough of this... this  _thing_ _!"_ his mom was saying. Her face was bright red with anger, and Seth instinctively flinched. The only other time he'd seen her that angry was... well, _never._  "What kind of an example is this setting for your brother?!"

Pickles said something, but it was too quiet for Seth to make out the words. But he could hear his tone. It was hard, and sharp, and defiant, and it made their mother's face contort into an even more terrifying mask of fury.

"I don't  _care!"_ she spat. "Mary, you're obviously delusional, you need to see someone-"

"My name is _Dillon_ _!"_ Pickles snapped. Seth couldn't see his face, but he saw his fists clench, saw him lean forward aggressively. "Naht  _Mary._ Dat's a girl's name, and I ain't a girl!"

"When are you going to give up this act?!"

"When you accept that I'm not a girl!"

"That's  _enough."_

Instantly, both Pickles and their mother fell silent. Seth's breath froze in his throat as he looked to his father. He'd been so quiet that Seth hadn't even noticed him sitting in his usual spot in his recliner, surrounded by empty beer bottles. Usually, he was just passed out drunk, but this seemed to be one of his rare moments of sobriety. His eyes were focused on Pickles, not glazed over, but the  _hatred_ in them almost made Seth wish he was unconscious.

"Dad," Pickles said, his voice pleading. "C'mahn, back me up here."

"Shut  _up."_

Their father took a swig from his bottle before speaking again, and Seth could almost smell the stench of booze from where he stood.

"Get outta here," he slurred. "You belong in a garbage can."

It was only a few seconds before Pickles responded, but it may as well have been an eternity.

"You want me out?" he said bitterly, turning around and grabbing a bag that Seth had only just noticed. "Fine."

He stormed to the door, and Seth managed to jump back and out of the way just before he slammed the door open. Pickles didn't even spare him a glance as he went into the garage, re-emerging with a beat-up old Harley. Seth knew it well - Pickles had saved up money from various odd jobs to buy it, and he doted over it. He even took Seth for rides on it sometimes, but only if he promised not to tell their parents. They'd go to the movie theater, or the ice cream parlor, and Pickles would always,  _always_ get him two scoops of chocolate ice cream.  _Don't tell Mom I let ya spoil yer appetite._

"Pickles?" Seth's voice was trembling, and he felt hot tears prick his eyes. "Wh-where ya goin', bro?"

"Out," Pickles said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"O-oh," he said. "So... so when you comin' back?"

"Never," he snapped. And before Seth could say anything, before he could beg for him,  _plead_ for him to stay, he peeled off, leaving Seth alone, coughing in the exhaust left behind by the bike.

"Seth!"

Seth jumped when he heard his mother's voice. She was poking her head out the door, looking at him with a concerned expression. "What are you doin' out here?"

"I-I-"

"C'mon, sweetie," she said, her voice honeyed and falsely sweet. "Get inside."

It would be pointless to protest, but Seth couldn't move.

"Pickles didn't mean it, did he?" Seth asked. "He's coming back, r-right?"

"God, I hope not," came his father's voice from inside. His mother shot a glare over her shoulder, but she didn't reprimand him. She turned back to Seth, giving him a big smile, one that didn't reach her eyes.

"Your sister isn't coming back," she said, her voice overly bright and cheerful. "At least, not until she... admits she's your sister. Okay?"

There was a lump the size of a baseball in Seth's throat. He was afraid that, if he opened his mouth, he'd start bawling, so he just nodded, avoiding his mother's gaze.

"Great!" she said, clapping his hands together. "Say, why don't we three take our minds off this? How does ice cream sound? I bet we could make it to the parlor before it closes."

"Mom, I'm..." Seth swallowed, brushing his hand harshly over his eyes. "I'm not really hungry right now. I'm just.. I'm just gonna go to my room."

His mom said something else, but Seth neither listened nor cared. He sprinted past her and up the stairs to his room, slamming the door behind him, and throwing himself onto the bed.

He wasn't in the mood for ice cream now. He didn't ever want to eat ice cream again. He'd rather be grounded, or give up his precious Game Boy, or never see another cartoon again. He didn't want any of that, he just wanted his brother back.

Just before he fell asleep that night, he realized something - _Stevie was right._

He didn't have a brother. Not anymore.

 

**Author's Note:**

> idk how happy i am with the ending so im gonna just post this before i hate it  
> (also get it? dillon? pickles? dill pickles? hahaha this was painful to write)


End file.
